by C. J. Thomas
I wished I could be so proud of myself, but I still felt hollow inside. Like I’d just made a devastating mistake.
Why couldn’t I loosen up and enjoy the opportunity that had just fallen into my lap? Mainly because it all felt so sudden, so sneaky.
It might have been what was best for me in the long run—and I would make it that way, looking out for number one from then on—but my principles wouldn’t let me revel in it just yet.
I called Emery, needing her advice. She was at a loss for words by the time I finished speaking. That was hardly helpful.
“So let me get this straight,” she said. “You work at Madison Media Group again?”
I winced at the disbelief in her voice. When she said it like that, it sounded downright ridiculous. “Yes. I just signed the contract.”
“Didn’t you already sign a contract with Aaron?”
“Reed told me he could get me out of it, no problem.”
“And you believe him? This is Reed we’re talking about. Remember? Satan’s number one protégé?”
I snorted. “Yeah, I remember. I don’t know, Em. It’s such a fantastic opportunity. The salary alone!”
She hesitated for a moment. I knew her well enough to know she tried to get the right words together, which meant she seriously disagreed with my decision. “Doesn’t it strike you as more than a bit odd? The man accosts you on the street and the next thing you know, you’re in a new office at the top of the heap? What’s he really after?”
My heart sank. “So you see it, too.”
“Honey, Stevie Wonder could see it. Come on. There’s something else happening. Something neither of them want you to know about.”
I shook my head, refusing to believe it. “Aaron told me everything.”
“Yeah, in his own good time. Come on. Deny it. He probably knew you were close to the truth—maybe he knew Reed was after you, something like that. He thought it best to come clean before Reed did. Even then, he wasn’t totally upfront. He used you, honey. I’m sorry, but that’s just how it looks.”
“I know.”
“And chances are, Reed’s doing the same thing. I hate to put it to you like that, but that’s my opinion after hearing the facts.”
“I know.” My voice seemed to get smaller and smaller. “But I can make this work for me. I can do it, I know I can.”
“Oh, I have no doubt,” Emery agreed. “They’ll both regret fucking with you, girl. You’ll be running that place one day.”
I laughed. “From your mouth to God’s ears.”
“So you’re happy?”
“Professionally? Yes. If a certain protégé of the prince of darkness weren't involved, I’d be flying high.” We both chuckled. “Otherwise, I couldn’t ask for more right now. I really couldn’t. A woman my age in this position? When has that happened? Ever?”
“I don’t know if it ever has. You’re right. I’m proud of you.”
“Even if I didn’t strictly earn the job?” I asked, biting my lip.
“Enough with the self-doubt. You’ll more than earn it going forward, if I know anything about Reed. Or you. I know how hard you work. It’s in your nature.”
She was right. It was my nature to work hard and prove myself. It would never be enough for me to simply coast by in a job. I would bust my ass to make sure everybody knew who was in charge.
I could hardly wait.
After hanging up, only one thing still bothered me. But it was a big thing.
My relationship with Aaron, or what relationship we had left.
What had I done to it? How would he interpret my leaving?
I didn’t have to think hard about that one. He’d see it as the ultimate treachery. He was a man with strong beliefs, where most things were black or white. There were few shades of gray in Aaron’s world.
I sighed fretfully, looking around my new office. As big and beautiful as it was, it wasn’t the same as being with him. I had just signed over my personal life, a relationship I’d started to depend upon.
With a man you couldn’t trust. I needed to remember that. I’d write it on sticky notes and put it up all over my home, my office, and anywhere else I frequented.
I. Couldn’t. Trust. Aaron.
He’d used me. I would have to get over him, just like he would need to get over me. Aaron was a big boy. He could manage it.
Still, it seemed a little too big of a coincidence that in the middle of a game of tug-of-war, all the accusations about Aaron had come to light. What were the odds of those two situations happening at the same time? And they didn’t come out until after Aaron hired me. Did that mean—
No. It couldn’t. Reed wouldn’t stoop that low.
But who else had that kind of power, and an ax to grind against Aaron? Who?
How the hell did I know? The man was a mystery. He might have had enemies anywhere in the world. In the Azores, for all I knew. I was sure his brusque, to-the-point manner hadn’t exactly made him a lot of warm friends in the business world.
It could have been anyone.
But right after he stole me from Reed? It was a little too close a coincidence for me to shrug off, no matter how badly I wanted to.
As I thought it over, an email notification pinged on my new laptop. My second new laptop in under a week—at least I knew the ropes at Madison Media Group. I opened it, wondering what Reed could possibly want from me already.
It wasn’t a work request, or anything work-related at all. He’d forwarded me a breaking news piece, typing “Aren’t you glad you got out when you did?” at the top. I scrolled down to read the article.
My gasp filled the otherwise silent room. Aaron had been arrested less than an hour before. The police had nabbed him while leaving Patrick’s office.
“Oh, my God,” I whispered. It was all too much, a nightmare. And they were so sure the accusations were baseless, easily squashed. Patrick had been too confident, I guessed.
My heart sank, the thought of a man like Aaron in jail almost too much to consider.
And Reed had been so quick to throw it in my face, hadn’t he? Did he have a Google alert set to Aaron’s name or something? How had he found out so quickly? What was his stake in the game?
I couldn’t make heads or tails of it, not when I felt so heartsick.
CHAPTER 39
Aaron
It was the worst night of my life. From the moment the police approached me in front of Patrick’s building to the moment I stepped outside into the first fresh air I’d breathed in hours, it was a waking nightmare filled with bigger and bigger horrors around every corner.
I knew what they wanted when I saw them walking toward me. A sick certainty filled me when they confirmed my name, then asked me to turn around so they could handcuff me.
I heard gasps all around as witnesses reacted to the sight of a man’s arrest in front of a respectable office tower in the middle of Manhattan. I’d seen someone who looked familiar—one of Patrick’s many assistants—and told her to alert Patrick. She promised she would.
Then the cops took me to a car, pushed me inside, and drove me to the station. I stayed silent the entire time. I would surely wake up and find out it was all a terrible nightmare.
Only I didn’t wake up.
It was all too real. The fingerprinting, the mug shot. Sitting in a cell with a half dozen other men for hours on end, listening to them belching and farting and snoring, muttering to each other about how unfair it was that they were there, how they’d done nothing wrong.
No, I did nothing wrong, I wanted to say. I’m the one who doesn’t belong here. You’re just trash.
Then again, if the police could arrest me on trumped-up charges—me, with all my wealth and connections—who was to say that they hadn’t experienced something similar?
It didn’t help that they eyed me up like a piece of fresh meat, probably thanks to the suit and shoes I wore. Two of my cellmates wore track suits. One wore jeans and no shirt, his pasty, thin chest cover
ed in tattoos.
They were nothing like me, and we all knew it. They hated me. I knew that, too.
I tried to avoid eye contact at all costs, but that wasn’t easy over the course of the entire night. It was a relief when they fell asleep so I could look where I pleased.
From the moment I arrived, I decided to keep my thoughts to myself and focus on Patrick bailing me out. It wasn’t that easy. In the movies and on TV, bail is always posted almost immediately after a person’s booked. They don’t show the endless hours of waiting, hoping, the ass-numbing boredom of sitting in a slate-grey box until you’re not sure you were ever not inside. It gets to feeling like the entire world consists of that box. There was never a past, there is no future. Just sitting and waiting.
When I got my phone call, not long after I met my cellmates, Patrick’s was the number I dialed. “Kid, I’m doing everything I can, but they’re not making it easy,” he said.
“Why not? What are they doing? Who is ‘they’, anyway?”
“These are federal charges. You didn’t start a fight in a bar or get busted stealing a woman’s purse. I have a lot of asses to kiss here, and a lot of people to placate. There are more than a few people who wanna see you swing for this. They want to make an example out of you. A sort of warning to anybody else who thinks they can get away with cheating the SEC.”
“But I didn’t! You told me we had overwhelming proof of my innocence.”
“We do, but they jumped the gun. I’ll get it all smoothed out, trust me. It’s just gonna take some time.”
It took the entire rest of the day and into the following morning. By the time an officer came to the door and told me bail was posted, it was nearly eight o’clock, well after I would have been in the office.
I felt like I’d aged five years in less than twenty-four hours. Patrick didn’t look much better than I felt when I tumbled into the limo he waited in outside the station. He wore a pair of pajamas and a bathrobe, which struck me as one of the funniest things I’d ever seen. I laughed helplessly as the limo drove away, apologizing for the exhaustion and giddiness.
He handed me a cup of coffee and a Danish. I was famished, or I would never have eaten something so fatty and sugary. Less than a minute later, I licked the rest of the glaze off my fingers as Patrick explained the situation.
“I did the best I could to get you out of there, kid.”
“I appreciate it.” I was too tired and too worn down in my soul to let something as petty as a few hours get to me. He hadn’t slept either, I could tell, though he at least lived in comfort. I was sure I’d have permanent bruises on my ass from the metal bench I’d sat on.
“How was it in there?” I gave Patrick a look that I thought conveyed everything he needed to know. He winced. “That bad, huh?”
“Pretty much what you would expect. I’m sure you’ve seen the inside of a jail cell before. Not that you’ve been inside.” The look on his face was almost enough to make me laugh. “I only mean you’ve been there for your clients.”
“Oh, right. I was gonna say, after everything I went through for you last night—”
“Sorry. I’m too tired to think about what I’m saying.” I grinned a little, nearly gulping the hot coffee, willing life back into my foggy brain.
“You won’t need to spend another sleepless night. Everything’s back on track,” Patrick promised.
“What’s everything? Be specific,” I implored. I felt out of the loop and foggy, even with the strong coffee Patrick had thoughtfully provided. I wished he’d have brought a change of clothes, but I could take care of that on my own. I felt soiled, rumpled, not at all myself. I hated appearing in public looking like I’d, well, spent the night in a jail cell.
Patrick’s grin was triumphant. “You’ll be cleared within the day. It’s just a matter of the wheels of justice at this point. They turn a little slower than we would like.” Patrick smirked.
“Like I don’t know that,” I retorted. If they could have turned any slower, I might have died of boredom in that cell. Or frozen permanently in place, afraid to turn my head or move the wrong way.
“They’re turning, though. They are. Not only will you be cleared, but we found something else that I think will be the nail in Reed’s coffin.” There was no missing the glee in Patrick’s voice, tired though we both were. I turned to him, waiting to hear more. “Funny what happens when a team of lawyers starts digging around. We found out that Reed’s been a very bad boy with a lot of little girls.”
I cock an eyebrow. “Meaning?”
“Meaning he’s on the hook for at least a half-dozen sexual harassment lawsuits filed against him.”
That got my attention. I sat up straighter, gears clicking in my head. “And you’re sure about this?”
“Oh, positive. Every one of the suits was hushed up, covered up. The girls were all paid off—huge sums, too. Enormous. We’re talking millions of bucks. And I guess I don’t have to tell you where that money came from.”
“The company? Not Reed, personally?”
“Not personally.” Patrick beamed, chuckling. “Can you believe this bum?”
It all seemed too good to be true. “Well, still, at most he could be charged with misuse of company funds, which is nothing.”
“No, but when his name is splashed all over the papers—and it will be, the big shot—along with the defamation suit and proof that he falsified the so-called evidence against you? It’s a slam dunk. No way he’s getting out of this one. The SEC will have a lot to talk with him about. They might want to, you know, ask the government to keep him as a guest for a long time.”
I couldn’t wait to see him torn apart the way he’d tried to tear me apart. It would be so sweet. “Brought down the very way he tried to bring me down. Persecution via the press,” I murmured.
“Yeah, turnabout is fair play and all. You tried to get him, he tries to get you, you slam dunk on him.”
I chuckled, shaking Patrick’s hand. “What do you think that will do to Madison Media Group?” I asked, suddenly realizing the broader implications of Reed’s arrest.
“That remains to be seen. I mean, without a strong leader at the helm, investors are liable to jump ship. Same as they did with you. You’ll course-correct pretty fast—once we get it out there that you’re innocent, everybody will figure out that they made a mistake. But Reed’s not innocent. He’s going away, my friend. So the company could be up for grabs before long.”
It all seemed too good to be true. I would get everything I wanted, everything I’d originally hoped for.
And I would see Reed Kingsley thrown in jail. The cherry on top. The icing on the cake.
I wanted to be there when they sentenced him.
Only one thing was still missing. Someone I never expected to care about.
“I need you to take me to the meatpacking district,” I said, straightening myself out. I had to look at least somewhat presentable to her. I wanted to grab Kenzie before she went to work—there was no time to go home, shower and dress before then. I might not be able to cut her off as it was.
“What? Why?”
“I have to see Kenzie. I want to be sure she knows I’m all right and everything’s about to settle down.”
“You’re crazy. She’s not going to want to talk to you right now. The whole world knows they arrested you. She’s probably pretty sore at you right now, too. I would be, if I knew you used me.”
“I know you’re my lawyer, and I know I owe you a lot, but I have to draw the line there.” I looked at him, reasserting my power. I employed him, damn it.
“You’re right. I’ll keep my nose out of it.” He directed his driver to follow my instructions.
“After I talk to her, I’ll clean up and go back to the office.”
“All right, professionally, are you sure that’s the best idea? I’m speaking as your lawyer, now, not as the person who made the mistake of giving a damn about you.”
I sighed, turning to him. “
Don’t be that way,” I said. “I know what I’m doing with Kenzie, and I don’t need advice. Professional advice, sure. You think I should stay away from the building today?’
“Work from home. That’s my advice. It’s likely that Reed will go down by the end of the work day.”
“So soon?”
“I told you the wheels move slowly. They’re not that slow.” Patrick winked, and I knew we were on solid ground again. The last person I needed to alienate was my lawyer.
“Okay. I’ll stay home, but I’ll have the phone on me at all times. Call me the minute something happens.”
“Will do. Get some rest, too. You look like shit, kid.”
“You should talk,” I smirked, relieved for the first time in days that things were starting to turn in my favor.
All I had to do was talk to Kenzie, explain what happened, and go home. By the time I woke up from a much-needed nap, life would be back to normal. And, I hoped, Kenzie would be back in my arms tonight.
We had a little bit of lost time to make up for.
CHAPTER 40
Kenzie
I dragged my feet as I walked through my apartment, wishing I’d gotten the number of the truck that had run me over during the night.
I had no idea how I would function at work, feeling the way I did. I hoped everybody would leave me alone and let me be. I couldn’t take too much energy.
Chloe looked up from her laptop, where she read the morning news. She frowned at the sight of me. “Rough night?” she asked, sympathetic. She looked well-rested, pink-cheeked, bright-eyed. I hated her in that moment.
“They’ll have to come up with a new word for the night I had. Rough doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She watched as I poured coffee down my throat, then went for another cup. All the caffeine in the world couldn’t make up for a night without sleep.
All I could do was think about Aaron, worry about Aaron. How did he feel? What was he thinking? Was he all alone?
I knew Patrick would work hard to get him out of jail, but how long would that take? He had to feel as though he didn’t have a friend in the world.